


all my emptiness remains intact

by inkk



Series: alphabet AU challenge [11]
Category: All Time Low, Bandom
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, Kleptomania, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Suicidal Thoughts, One Shot, Teenagers, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkk/pseuds/inkk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>K</b> is for <b>Kleptomania</b>.</p><p>(In which Jack doesn't <i>want</i> to steal.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	all my emptiness remains intact

**Author's Note:**

> hi ok so quick reminder that kleptomania isn't a joke and that it legitimately destroys lives???thanks
> 
> anyways - sorry for the slow update, and the story title comes from 'Kleptomaniac' by MC Chris!
> 
> enjoy! :)

+

 

It started out with junk - just things like dirty pebbles and stray pennies, elastic bands and aluminum candy wrappers, rolled into balls and stuffed into the pockets of his tiny eight-year old pants.

As he grows, it evolves into tiny things; never anything valuable, never anything personal, never anything that anyone would ever even notice was gone (pencils and beads, paper clips and marbles, his mother's black bobby pins, all carefully secreted away with a quick and practiced sleight of hand).

Jack tries not to; he really does.

But after ~~secondsminuteshoursdaysweeks~~ a month of not adding to his collection, his fingers start to twitch - subtly, at first, like the dull, stinging ache of a canker sore he can't keep his tongue away from.

It only grows from there.

He can't even go into stores, for fear that his mind will latch onto the littlest things (buttons, pins, keychains, a figurine, _something_ \- anything - to make the horrible, looming itch go away). 

He feels clumsy and awkward; stretched out and anxious, yet small and tired like he doesn't quite belong in his body.

 

\+ + +

 

"Have you seen my other black earring?"

Jack reflexively shakes his head, focusing his gaze down at his phone. "Nope. Sorry."

Alex frowns and looks around his room a little while longer before shrugging to himself. "Oh well," he sighs, "I guess I just misplaced it. They were kind of a shitty pair anyways."

 

(Jack curls his fingers protectively around the little stud in his pocket, but he doesn't say anything.)

 

He's guilty and disgusting and ashamed and full to the brim with self-hatred, but above all, he's certain that Alex can never find out.

 

 

(Later, he'll walk home and pull open his closet door, pull out a box and slip the earring inside alongside the rest of his collection. 

Then he'll lock the box, close the door, put his headphones in and turn his music up loud enough to cover the sound of his sobs.)

 

\+ + +

 

For ~~two whole fucking months~~ a while, Jack thinks he's doing alright - until he sees it.

 _'It'_ being a thin silver bracelet on a jewelry rack at the front of whichever store he and Alex have just walked into. He stares at it for a moment, avoiding the temptation to reach out and snag it ~~quietly tuck it away in his sleeve with a giddy rush of euphoria and no one would ever even have to notice~~ \--

"Dude, look at these," Alex taps him on the shoulder, effectively  
tearing Jack's gaze away from the bracelet to point at a pair of pink heart-shaped sunglasses perched on his nose above a shit-eating grin. "You think I pull 'em off?"

Jack finds himself ~~pushing the bracelet to the back of his mind for later that night~~ smiling back. "Yeah, definitely," he laughs, "I think you should buy them. I hear chicks dig the feminine look lately."

Alex makes a face and pulls the sunglasses off, snapping them closed with a sharp _click_. "Maybe I _will_ buy them," he says, faux-snippily, turning on his heel to march up to the cash register.

Jack follows, chuckling ~~and leaving the bracelet behind even though it sticks in his mind like a burr, digging painfully into his sternum, wrapping a noose around his thoughts~~ as Alex pays for the glasses and exits the store with a satisfied smirk.

 

\+ + +

 

Jack doesn't want to steal.

He hates that he feels the need to in the first place, that he's never strong enough to just man up and resist the temptation - he knows it's not normal, he _knows_ there's something wrong with him, but how the hell is he supposed to ask for help ~~without becoming just another humiliating teenage stereotype~~?

He's poisonous.

He's needy and perverted and downright parasitic to the people he loves - greedily feeding off of them because he doesn't know how not to, can't know how to stop himself but despises the way it makes him feel better.

 

Jack hates it.

 

 ~~But yet~~ \--

 

\+ + +

 

He goes back for the bracelet three days later. 

~~Three days of dreams and daydreams and excruciating, crushing anxiety, three days of being absolutely unable to focus in class, three days of feeling sick with tension, three days of self-mutilating guilt because he _knows_ he's going to do it because he's weak and nothing but a fucking thief and it hurts too much to try and put up a fight~~.

 

No alarms go off.

 

No one notices.

 

~~The bracelet looks almost at home amongst the other items in his box.~~

 

\+ + +

 

Sometimes, he'll give them back.

(A tiny, convenient discovery - "Look what I found," a puzzled expression he's had too many experiences to practice; "Is this the one you were looking for?" or sometimes nothing at all, just the inaudible brush of fingertips as he leaves a part of himself behind in it's rightful place.)

Jack usually feels a little bit better afterwards, until the second wave of twisted guilt hits because _what the fuck, why did I even have to take it in the first place?_ and _I'm disgusting I'm terrible they don't deserve this I don't deserve to be around these people_ \--

 

Jack thinks they would all be horrified if they found out - he can picture his tears, the looks of revolt on their faces, the look on _Alex's_ face if he discovered where most of his missing trinkets have mysteriously disappeared to.

 

There are some things he just can't put back, though. He can't go back and discreetly leave a little plastic chess piece on the counter of his first-grade classroom, can't carefully slip a polished green rock into Anna Schwartz' fourth-grade desk drawer or drop an unused packet of three-year old ibuprofen back onto the shelf of the drugstore where it belongs.

He feels like swallowing back bile every time he opens the box.

 

\+ + +

 

 

Jack thinks maybe killing himself would be an overreaction.

 

 

 

(But he thinks about it, anyways.)

 

 

\+ + +

 

In November, Alex asks him out on a date.

( _"Like... a real date. A non-platonic one."_ )

Jack reflexively nods and says, "Sure, but you're definitely paying."

 

And so they go out to a movie and share popcorn and it's fun and maybe they end up make out for a while (but it's surprisingly not actually that weird after all) and then maybe in December Jack officially moves from _bestfriendforever_ to _boyfriend_ and it's all perfectly fine with him except for the fact that just last week he stole Alex's pencil.

It's ~~stupid and awful and significant~~ only a fucking pencil but Jack still _hates_ himself for it, bitterly hates himself more than he has ever hated anything in the world and hates the fact that Alex _doesn't_ hate him yet ~~because he knows it's only a matter of time~~.

 

\+ + +

 

He gets home one day and his mom is sitting on the couch and she says, "I was looking in your room for laundry."

She points to the box (to _his_ box) sitting on the coffee table and she says, "I found this."

 

She says, "Explain yourself."

 

Jack does.

 

And then she says, "Oh my god," and Jack sniffles and nods and it's decided later that evening: Thursday at four o'clock, he'll go see a psychologist.

 

\+ + +

 

On Thursday, at 3:38, the phone rings.

"Hey, wanna come over?"

Jack sighs. "Can't."

"But my parents aren't home," Alex wheedles. "C'mon, please? If it's homework, I can definitely try and help you out."

"Not homework," Jack tells him, and then ~~before he can think better of it~~ , "I have an appointment with a psychologist."

Alex goes quiet. "Oh," he says eventually. "Well. That's cool, then. Do you think you can you come home on my bus tomorrow?"

They waste a few minutes talking about nothing in particular after that, and just about when Jack says he needs to go Alex says, "You know you could talk to me about it, right? Like. Anything you're going through."

Jack's chest tightens with a sudden swell of guilt. "Yeah, I know."

He can hear Alex's faint smile on the end of the line when he says, "Okay. Have a good appointment, man. I love you."

Jack doesn't even have a snarky comeback this time. 

"Love you too," he says softly, and then the line goes dead.

 

\+ + +

 

On the fourth session, the psychologist - Dr. Zan, who is young guy in glasses with skin like melted chocolate and a deep voice ~~who makes Jack feel like maybe he's not worthless after all~~ \- asks, "Why haven't you told Alex?"

"He can't know," Jack replies immediately. "He would hate me."

Dr. Zan cocks his head, setting his notepad down on the little coffee table between them. "You're sure about that?"

Jack falters. "...Yes?"

"But would you hate Alex if he stole from you?" Dr. Zan presses. "If your positions were reversed, I mean."

Jack frowns. "Of course not," he answers, "I could never blame him. I think I love him too much for that."

Dr. Zan spreads his hands, as if to say _see?_. "From what you've told me about Alex, he seems like a very understanding fellow," he continues. "So what I'm asking is... do you really want to have to keep all of this a secret from him forever?"

Jack sits back in his chair. "I don't know if I _can_ ," he says truthfully. "I mean... I don't know. I just feel so guilty, you know? I'm ashamed of it, and I hate lying to him." He sighs heavily. "He deserves to know, though."

"I think you're a very wise young man, Jack," Dr. Zan says after a pause, a slight smile crossing his features. "And I think I can trust you'll be able to decide the right thing to do."

 

\+ + +

 

Later, Jack will go into his mother's room and grab his box with shaking hands, clutching it tight to his chest as he runs to the backyard and pushes the lid open, fingers fumbling in his pocket for a pack of matches he bought at 7-11 on the way home before clumsily striking one and letting it fall inside.

 

He'll stand there and watch it start to burn with tears prickling at the backs of his eyes and an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders, watching the contents of his box flaming and twisting and crumbling and melting as thick black smoke billows out.

 

 

And he'll smile.

 

 

\+ + +

 

_Jack [11:31pm]  
are you still awake???_

_Lexy [11:32pm]_  
permanently, it seems.  
what's up?? 

_Jagk [11:33pm]  
do you think maybe we could meet up somewhere?_

_Lexy [11:33pm]  
what?? now???_

_Jagk [11:34pm]_  
um..yes?  
it's important 

_i have something i kinda really need to tell you_

 

+

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much - it's so rad that people actually read these!
> 
> kudos and comments always make my day :)
> 
> **also, do you guys have any suggestions for (band)fandoms or pairings i should do next?? bc no guarantee that i'll be able to do it but i have no idea rn lmao :))


End file.
